


Quiet Mile With You

by Catullus_50



Series: Starts With a Smash [2]
Category: Kamen Rider Build
Genre: Fluff and Smut, Hand Jobs, M/M, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-24
Updated: 2020-03-24
Packaged: 2021-03-01 00:13:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,174
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23296060
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Catullus_50/pseuds/Catullus_50
Summary: Banjou Ryuuga wakes up with a problem and can't get back to sleep
Relationships: Banjou Ryuuga/Kiryuu Sento
Series: Starts With a Smash [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1675342
Comments: 2
Kudos: 25





	Quiet Mile With You

Banjou Ryuuga woke reluctantly, pulse pounding. As the dream slowly relinquished its hold on his consciousness, it didn’t let go of certain other parts of his anatomy, which were similarly pounding uncomfortably in his boxers. _Shit._

He peered around the dark basement of Nascita. The others lay scattered around the cramped room, sleeping forms barely visible. He was surrounded and there was no way he was going to make it back to sleep with this raging boner. He flung an arm over his face and frantically tried to think of calming things. Boring things. Counting. Math problems. Physics problems. Physicists. Really attractive physicists who were sleeping two inches away from him, blanket half off, t-shirt rucked up exposing just a hint of hipbone, and- This was not helping at all. He groaned internally. He was going to have to get up out of the deliciously warm futon, away from ...distractions. 

Cautiously he picked his way across the room in the dark, stepping over Gentoku's sprawling limbs. Kazumin was snoring somewhere in the dark beyond him, and the two girls were curled up in the only bed. Quietly he padded up the stairs, wincing at every creak. 

He breathed a sigh of relief as he closed the bathroom door. Unfortunately, the climb had done nothing to relieve the aching tension in his cock. He was just going to have to wait it out. He sat on the counter and closed his eyes, willing it to go down. _Please. Pretty please?_ Instead, images from his dream filled his mind: Sento’s lips pressed against his own, Sento naked and grinning at him smugly, Sento on his knees in front of him…

Of its own accord, his hand brushed over his erection through the thin cotton of his boxers. _Hrrng._ Just that touch sent a jolt up his spine, scrambling his brain. It occurred to him that there was perhaps another way he could get rid of it; no one was likely to walk in in the middle of the night… It was a convincing argument. He slipped his boxers down and leaned back against the cool tiles of the wall. His cock was hot in his hand. He stroked it slowly, and allowed himself to sink back into those dream images. _Sento…_ The fantasy blurred into the frenzied memory of their previous encounter, of his partner pressed against the wall, coming apart at his hand. Desperate kisses and the copper tang of half healed cuts. It had been too damn long, never enough time, or privacy, or safety, for more than a meaningful look or a stolen kiss. Fantasy would have to do for now. Feverishly he slid his hand over the head of his cock, already slick. He stuffed his other hand in his mouth, biting down on a knuckle, stifling the noise that threatened to bubble out of his throat. Sparks played across his vision. "Sento…" he breathed around his hand. "Sento, please…"

"Please what?" The focus of his dream lounged against the (mercifully closed) bathroom door. Despite his rumpled clothes and sleepy expression, there was a wicked glint to his eyes. "You seem to be doing all right by yourself," he said.

Ryuuga froze, his cock still in his hand. There was no way to hide what he had been doing, so he remained on the counter. Sento came closer. His hands dropped to his thighs and he turned his face away, embarrassed. "You should be sleeping," he muttered, face red. 

"Somebody woke me up. I was sleeping peacefully until someone started twitching and _moaning._ " Sento's slow smile was insufferable. 

At this point, Ryuuga was sure he could fry an egg on his face. He spoke to the wall, unable to meet his eyes. "I couldn't sleep."

A bead of sweat trickled down his neck, and a shockingly cold finger followed its path. He shivered as it traced a path over his chest and down, stopping on the skin of his belly. 

"I can see why." Sento's voice was soft and a little ragged at the edges. He looked up. The other man was right in front of him now, his face only inches away. His dark eyes crinkled up at the corners, and suddenly Ryuuga was overcome with the need to kiss those faint beginnings of crows feet. He wet his lips, caught between fading embarrassment and desire. 

"Now, what was it you wanted so desperately, then?"

“Hrrnk.” His first attempt at a reply caught in his throat. He ducked his head and tried again. "Please," he fought not to beg him. "Please touch me." 

Sento acquiesced. He pulled Ryuuga flush against his hips, lifting his legs around his waist. The first grasp of his hand sent a shock to the base of his skull, and involuntarily he arched away from the wall, clutching at his partner’s shirt. Some unintelligible noise escaped his lips. He was already strung as tightly as a bow from his earlier ministrations and the touch of another hand on his cock almost released him.

A whisper in his ear, "Shhhhhh..." Then Sento's mouth was on his neck, his tongue tracing his jaw, his throat. He crammed his hand back in his mouth, trying to hold himself in. The tongue moved lower, brushing over a nipple, and he keened into his fist. He hooked his legs together behind Sento’s back, holding him as close as possible. His free hand ran over the hip that had distracted him earlier, relishing the chance. Every touch seemed to add to the fire that was filling his abdomen, threatening to spill over. One hand was now clinging helplessly to Sento's shirt, but the rest of him was taut, waiting, sparking, head thrown back. Through a growing haze he felt the inexorable stroke of Sento's hand speed up, and, finally, he snapped, coming undone in an instant. His ears rang with the suddenness of it. 

Eventually, he came back to himself. His legs were still wrapped around his partner, trapping him against the counter. Sento was smiling gently _(at him!)_ and he thought his heart would strangle him in his chest. 

Until he leaned over him and whispered, "Do you mind letting go?"

Sheepishly, Ryuuga released him. His legs were starting to ache and he felt rather sticky all of a sudden. A wet paper towel hit him in the chest. 

"Hey! That's cold, damn it!"

"Clean yourself off, I want to go back to bed." Sento had already washed his hands, pointedly yawning.

Grumbling, he complied, but secretly sleep was starting to look very enticing. _And possible._ They tiptoed back downstairs, and he flopped gracelessly on the futon. His pillow felt like a cloud, a dense cloud that was sucking his consciousness away. He was already halfway gone, when he was gently nudged back onto his side of the bed. Grumbling, he shifted, and was silenced with a faint kiss pressed to the back of his neck and a long arm slung around his waist. He slipped into sleep surrounded by Sento's warmth.

**Author's Note:**

> Look they both need to work on communicating their feelings, ok?


End file.
